


Skeletal Turkeys in the Mall

by Sanguinifex (Eros_Scribens)



Series: Ruining Holidays [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Black Friday, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Food Fight, Food Porn, Humor, Inappropriate Lube, Necromancy, Or dead turkey in this case, Other, Property Destruction, Sex Toys, Shopping Carts, Shopping Malls, Thanksgiving, Vandalism, Wet & Messy, Zombies, and already eaten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16713778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eros_Scribens/pseuds/Sanguinifex
Summary: Black Friday midnight sale? Think again.





	Skeletal Turkeys in the Mall

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure someone's into this. If the shopping cart fetish guy from 4chan is here, I've got shopping cart demolition right here, amidst all the rest of the chaos.

Twelve chimes rang out from the great clock in the center of the mall. Twelve peals of doom, outringing even the splashing of the mall fountains. Mall employees braced themselves for death, as the doors slid open on the first moments of the Black Friday Sale.

Customers swarmed in. They jostled. They fought. They attempted to haggle. They asked to see the managers. But little did anyone know—the true horror was yet to come!

For, under the clanging of the midnight bells and clamor of the crazed shoppers, another noise rose throughout the mall and the tough. A sickening, scratching noise: the sound of pavement scraping on bone.

As Sharon McHopper and Susan Dunway played tug of war with the last 50% OFF SUPER PLASMA 72” Flat Screen TV, suddenly the hitherto indomitable Ms. McHopper shrieked and ran screaming down Aisle 4. What sight, O Muse, impelled her to such excess of terror? It was— _A TURKEY SKELETON!_

Words cannot convey the horror of this ghastly invasion. In lurching ranks, the turkeys of Thanksgiving dinners past scraped and squelched into the mall. Carved turkeys, dismembered and reformed all out of order, a neck for a drumstick, given form by spectral energies. Partial turkeys, breastbones scraping on asphalt and mall carpet, or flats of turkey legs parading in squadrons. Deboned, whole-roasted turkeys, limbs mangled and scraps of skin hanging off. Squelching, plastic-wrapped turkeys not sold, still coming for the customers for whose market-calculated dinners they had been so cruelly snuffed out in the flower of youth. Cartons and cans of broth and gravy wobbled and rolled at the flanks; turkey bouillon cubes rappelled in (sans ropes) from the ceiling. Turkeys, turkeys, everywhere undead turkeys!

The turkeys swarmed into J.C. Penny. Bones and greasy skin spattered all the clothes. Carcasses nestled their way into the display beds. Some wreaked revenge on Housewares, dashing plates and pots to the floor and scattering ladles and pancake turners. Empty cans of diced turkey nestled in bras, smearing them with gravy. Drumsticks infested the shoes; wings seized upon the winter gloves; turkey necks draped themselves in elegant scarves.

In Sephora, Butterballs smeared themselves with rouge. In Lush, giant cans of turkey gravy opened themselves on bath bombs. Makeup and scented foam poured out of the stores, streaming into the carpeted throughways, as customers flailed in the expanding death avalanche of turkey byproducts and commercialization. In the Food-Kwick, whole turkeys piled onto every single shopping cart until it collapsed under the massive weight, shook and opened the sodas, and smashed fruits and vegetables and bread all over the floor.

But the worst of the devastation was in the Adult Emporium. Turkey carcasses scuttled in, the sheer mass of them overturning lingerie displays. Two got caught in one strap-on harness and tried to go in opposite directions, forever wrenching and despoiling its vegan leather. Drumsticks and wings ripped open seemingly impervious plastic packaging and inserted themselves into fleshlights and pocket pussies. Several Butterballs ripped open their own packaging and penetrated themselves with display dildos. Gizzards gobbled up nipple clamps. Cartons of turkey broth dumped out lube bottles and refilled them with their own salty essence. The lone remaining clerk stood marooned on the counter, slowly encroached upon by carcasses full of sex toys, vibrating ominously.

For an hour this terror reigned. The clock struck one, and as one, the turkey bones and turkey products ceased their rampage and quietly exited the building through the fire door. The damage they had wrought, however, remained in their wake: Every store was covered in grease and gravy and shreds of meat, and in some places vegetables and novelty cosmetics, and all the merchandise and carpets had to be replaced.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this wasn't quite as sexual as the other fics in this series. I'll make up for it at Christmas.
> 
> And yes, these fics are supposed to be weird. It's the point of the whole exercise.


End file.
